Missed You
by LunaB1134
Summary: He had done it again, hadn't he. He just had to go and do what he swore not to do...Couldn't just ignore her, like he should have, oh no... PostHBP. How can Ginny make Harry see whats right in front of him? R&R!


Disclaimer: If I was Jo Rowling, Ron and Hermione would have been snogging since the Yule Ball, Malfoy would go poof, and I would still be sleeping right now.

He had done it again, hadn't he. He just i had /i to go and do what he swore not to do… Couldn't just ignore her, like he should have, oh no…

Harry gave the next stair a resounding kick and gritted his teeth with pain as he pounded up the flight of steps. He was such an idiot. Fred and George must have spiked the punch again, that was why he was acting so odd. It wasn't him, he was too cautious for that…

i _Oh, yes, great bloody lie that is. Of course it wasn't the punch. It was_ /i her.

It was June 30th, the long-anticipated day of Bill and Fleur's wedding. A large gathering of loud, cheery red-heads and graceful, yet somewhat disapproving French had crammed into, filled up, and flooded out of the Burrow at least three weeks before the ceremony. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been swept along into Mrs. Weasley's decorating efforts and her joyful manner, snatching their chance to forget about the world, forget about the sadness, forget about the war. They were preparing bedrooms, sampling pastries, playing Quidditch, and holding massive Gobstone tournaments. Harry had felt for the first time in ages like a normal wizarding teenager.

Bill and Fleur had been engrossed in their sickeningly sweet displays of affection, which George, Fred, and Ginny had regarded with disgust and amusing mimes of vomiting and gagging. Not that Harry had been watching Ginny that closely, seeing a curtain of scarlet hair brush across her face as her eyes rolled back into her head, and her half-hearted giggling, revealing that crease that showed up just on the edge of her eye…

So all right, Harry still had feelings for her. He thought about that night at the funeral every day, hoping that he hadn't crushed any chance of them being together again. Ron and Hermione had grown much closer over the following weeks, but Ginny had become a shade less of her normal self. She engaged in the wedding preparations with less enthusiasm then normal, and Harry felt a heavy ache of guilt and pain sinking into his stomach. He only wanted to protect her; couldn't she see that? It was all for her that he was breaking this off, not for some stupid, selfish reason. But the hurt that he saw in her eyes every time they met - God, it was unbearable. She would curve the ends of her mouth a tiny smidge upward, but the happiness was not present in her expression.

That morning, she had rushed down, her tangled hair falling messily about her shoulders, a large Kenmare Kestrels shirt hanging off her shoulders and looking bleary and confused. Ron snickered at her choice of nightclothes, but Harry stared openly, and when she glared at him, he looked away in embarrassment. Ginny had never looked so – well - attractive to him, even though she appeared almost blind and her clothes didn't match. Which was when he knew that he loved her.

The thought had been bothering him all through the wedding, through the speeches and toasts, the ring exchange, and most of all, the dancing. Ginny stood tapping her foot to the music in a pale gold sheath dress, and Harry was transfixed by her every move. He watched as she danced with each of her brothers and her father, her dress swishing along the ground with each step, which drove him mad. He had fetched more and more punch until he was sick and tired of everything going on. He was sick of having to watch Ginny dance, sick of acting neutral towards her, and sick of having to love her.

Harry had discreetly made his way out into the vegetable garden. It was dark and cool, and he let the calm wash over him until he was fully soothed. He turned on his toe, and there she was, just as he knew she would be from the warning of some inner working that sensed her subtle presence. Her eyes glistened in the sliver of moonlight, her hair still perfect, and all Harry had to do was reach for her shoulder and pull her close before he kissed her.

All the pain, heartbreak, and want in their hearts that had shrouded their hearts for the past month was outpoured in that single gentle kiss between them. Harry felt his soul soar in finally having Ginny again, she pressed harder against his body, he was about to caress her fiery hair again when he remembered; i This couldn't happen. /i 

He softly pulled back from Ginny, but even such a tender move caused him more anguish then ever, and Ginny let out a small cry in protest. Harry backed away, and then rushed up the rickety staircase to Ron's room.

He sat down, unfeeling onto Ron's worn bedspread. He wasn't supposed to let himself get away with that, and he had known it since Dumbledore died. He was again putting his friends his danger by doing this. They shouldn't have had to go through all the things they had because of him, and he wasn't about to let their lives become bait for him. i You know this, /i Harry reminded himself harshly. i Don't gamble her life away for love. /i 

The door flew open, and Ginny stalked over the threshold, with the same blazing look she had bore in May. She promptly sat down by Harry. "We can't keep doing this," she said simply.

"We have to," he replied. "It's Voldemort we're dealing with, not your brothers strangling me or the whole school wanting to know what's going on with us. We could die."

"Together," she reminded him. "We would die together. I would want us to die together. D'you want to tell me anything?" she asks suddenly.

Harry looked at her, bewildered. "Tell you what?" he mumbled, thinking of the Horcruxes.

"Well, you've been bottling up your emotions for so long," she stated, "and I just, really, Harry, I can't stand you being so alone in this." Ginny's brow wrinkled. "So you won't be. Alone, that is."

Harry glared at her. Ginny stared back. He bit his lip, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He could feel the tears welling and clenched his teeth, shaking with anxiety. Ginny gently used her thumb to wipe away a strand of hair from his face, behind his ear.

And the contact set him off, and he let it go. He simply sat on the old threadbare Cannon's logo and surrounded by orange, let the tears flow down his cheeks, Ginny's arm around him. He cried for Dumbledore, for Sirius, for his Mum, his Dad, for all the people hurt by his actions, for Ginny, Ginny, his Ginny.

She squeezed her arm tightly around his shoulders, then turned his face to hers. "Harry," she said gently. "You're not hurting me by keeping this relationship going."

"Yes, I am," said Harry despairingly. "If he finds you, and he- I can't live without you, Ginny, I really can't. I'd miss you," he pleaded.

"Harry," Ginny repeated. "Malfoy's heard about us. Do you think he won't tell Voldemort what's going on?"

He paused, momentarily at a loss.

"I'm still a target of his, whether or not we stay together," she said adamantly. "Don't you see? It doesn't matter. He'll know anyways!" She looked up at him with a sort of pleading expression on her face.

"I can't lose you," Harry said finally. "Not like I lost Sirius."

"Don't you see, Harry? It's love," she exclaimed, a note of eagerness in her voice. "You were protected by i love /i . You've been helped by your friends' i love /i . Voldemort can only be defeated with i love /i . I can help you!" She fixed Harry with a willful stare.

"You're not going to stay behind, are you," said Harry. It was not a question. Ginny had made him see reason. "Even if I don't let you come, you're still going to follow. Just like I would follow you, Ginny." A small saddened smile snuck onto his face. "I guess you're coming whether I like it or not." Harry offered his hand, which Ginny took with a small squeeze and draped across her shoulder so they were entwined. She nuzzled her head into Harry's chest, and he let out a low, satisfied sigh.

"I won't let you go again," Harry promised.

"I won't either," Ginny replied. She turned and kissed him lightly on the forehead. His mouth traveled down to press against her lips in a kiss, and before he kissed her again, he almost inaudibly whispered,

"I love you, Ginny Weasley."

A/N: Thanks to my beta, Windy, aka TheMarauders for making this story good. Also to believeintreesemfl, potionsmaster, and RowenaTonks for being friends, and of course Nephele de Tourmalin, who made me keep writing. And Paloma Patil, because you are a roxin reviewer. Love you all! R&R, I'll give you cheese! Luna


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